Sentenced
by XxFuyukaina-BakaxX
Summary: Ivan has a dilemma. He needs to find a way to stay in the country before his visa expires and he's deported back to Russia. The solution? Get his friend/enemy plastered and trick him into marrying him in Vegas. Alfred is not happy. Multiple Pairings
1. Chapter 1

Ivan stared at the formal letter in his hand, his mouth set into a thin line. Well, this was quite bothersome. Apparently, his visa had decided that it was to expire if he didn't find job in a week. Apparently, the message had been lost in the mail. Apparently, he was going to be sent back to Russia by next Wednesday.

Ivan liked his home country, he found America to be obnoxious with its wealth and quite wasteful. Still, the weather was much nicer here. It was warm in the summer and there were sunflowers growing about. It only snowed in winter, and only then it was a mere few inches. He disliked snow very much.

Yes, Ivan liked Russia but not enough to return. Natalia was in Russia and wherever Natalia was Ivan was sure to be as far away as possible. Natalia was frightening, possessive and creepily enough, had an incestuous desire to be wed with him. He did care for his younger sister, but not enough to bed with her. Ever. Unfortunately, his opinion never really counted when it came to Natalia.

So, Ivan refused to go back to the country currently housing his mentally unbalanced sibling. He'd much rather stay in America, where it was warm and filled with interesting people. People like Arthur, Francis, that other man and his twin Alfred. Especially Alfred. Ivan smiled unconsciously, still standing in front of his mailbox with the letter in his hand. There was a large space between him and the crowd of people wanting to get to their mail but not daring to come near. He had that intimidating affect on people.

Excluding Alfred of course. The moron never had accepted the term of 'personal space', and was a very hands on talker. Always with the pointing, the pushing, the hand motions in order to make a point. It was quite amusing to watch. Listening, though, was much more difficult because he spoke in circles and about things of little importance. Such as a program on TV, a happening in some comic of his or most likely, complaining of whatever his half brother Arthur had done to get on his nerves.

Alfred, annoying as he was, happened to be Ivan's only actual friend. They fought more than they talked, some ending in hospital visits, but at least there was some interactions. In most situations, Ivan sat and watched with morbid amusement. He enjoyed seeing his companions bicker and shout, giggle and laugh, observing it all with a child like curiosity. Yet never participating. Unless Alfred dragged him in, which he did often. Something about being the hero or some other inane nonsense Alfred babbled about.

Ivan stepped away from the mailboxes, ignoring the sighs of relief from those around him, and took the elevator to his small and sparsely furnished apartment building. He needed to concentrate on the matter at hand, staying in the country. Perhaps he could talk to Arthur or Francis, they were both lawyers. But, he never was on very good terms with either of them. They'd probably be relieved to have him out of the country, only being around him due to his affiliations with Alfred.

It did not matter though, Arthur was quite troublesome. Always yelling, always denying he felt anything for Francis when everyone knew they were fucking each other. (There had been many a night when they could actually heard them in action.) And he stole Alfred's attention with his mockery, taking away from his time to tease Alfred and enjoy his reactions.

Francis was also a nuisance. His promiscuous ways were intriguing at first but they got old, especially when he continued to flirt with Alfred his twin just to make Arthur jealous and then they'd be off for a quick shag in the bathroom. Alfred was never bothered by the others inappropriate gestures directed toward him, brushing them off as customary. It still didn't change the fact that Ivan did not like them one bit.

He sat down at his small kitchen table, dropping his mail on said table top. He sighed, leaning back to look at the piece of paper critically. So bothersome... He knew it would be impossible to secure a job in less than a week, especially because he intimidated all of his interviewers. There surely had to be a way of staying in the country.

He paused a moment before his lips curled into that creepy knowing smirk Alfred had tried to wipe off many times with his fist. A plan formulated in his mind and he beamed at his own brilliance. That could surely work. It would most definitely work. All he needed was to get to Las Vegas and buy some alcohol. Oh and get Alfred to come too.

His smirk turned into a grin as he flushed it out more in his odd mind. Yes. He very much like his new idea, in fact, it amused him to no end. He wondered what Alfred would look like in white gown... Because he would be sure to coerce him to wear one.

* * *

"Vegas?" Alfred repeated confused, looking at his Russian frenemy critically.

"Da. Vegas."

"Why?" He couldn't help but ask. Ivan was such a cipher, always shut in doing nothing unless Alfred dragged him out for drinks with the rest of the gang. Offering to take everyone to Vegas was just so out of character, and out of the blue too! Something had to be up.

"You recently earned a promotion yes? From fry cook to cashier?" Ivan stated, smirking as he teased the other. Alfred huffed rolling his eyes. "This can be a celebration for your achievements."

"Just because I like McDonalds, and happen to go there a lot doesn't mean I work there. You know I'm a cop." He snapped, and then he grinned evilly up at him. "At least I have a job still, Mr. Unemployed-yet-again." He mocked, jabbing his finger into the others chest. Ivan looked down at him, ready to defend his current joblessness.

"It was not my fault."

"You attacked that little girl!"

"She was disrespecting a sunflower."

"She was just picking off the petals in order to play 'He likes me, He loves me'"

"What you call picking, I call mutilation."

Alfred rolled his eyes, there was really no point in arguing with Ivan on this. Sunflowers were just some weird obsession of his he'd had since he'd met him back in college. It was still quite unnerving but Alfred had grown accustomed to Ivan's weirdness. Wait, what had they first been talking about? Oh yeah, Vegas.

"Where do you even have the money to take us to Vegas?" Alfred asked, suspicions rising. Seriously, this was really weird. But he did love Vegas... And if Ivan offered to pay for all his expenses he'd definitely consider going... Getting drunk and partying for at least one night seemed pretty nice right about now. He did love his job, but he needed some excitement in his life.

"It is of little concern to you." Ivan stated simply, enjoying the glare he received.

"Fine, I'll go. As long as you pay for everything."

"Everything but food. You eat for seven." Ivan countered, the glare now smoldering. Ivan giggled lightly.

"Shut up. Fine, I'll win more money then you and you'll beg me for cash and you'll regret making fun of my eating habits." He huffed, pouting childishly. Ivan giggled louder. Perfect, Alfred had agreed.

"But, Mattie's got to come. He's such a shut in. Which means Gil will have to go too. I dont know what Mattie sees in that asshole. And then if Mattie comes he'll want Francis to too. And if Francis goes, stupid Arthur goes. Kiku needs to come, he really needs to get away from his computer, which means his brother Yao will have to come. And he'll probably bring that other asian dude...Im Yong or something... Oh and since Gilbert's coming that means Ludwig will be dragged over, along with Feli. If Feli comes than Lovino will come to 'protect' him. So Antonio will probably stalk him to Vegas. With all us guys going then Elizaveta's going to sneak her way which means Roderich is coming too." Alfred counted on his fingers as Ivan' eye twitched. "Yeah, so that makes...like 15 including us." He declared.

"Change of plans. Everyone will pay their own way or not come at all." Ivan stated, his plan would fail if he had to empty his pockets for all the nuisances. His money should be focused on getting Alfred drunk enough. That part was key.

"Well fuck it I'm not going then."

Ivan sighed, "I shall pay only for your trip. The others can fend for themselves." He acquiesced. Since, really, Alfred was the most important factor in his scheme. Without him it was all pointless and he'd be spending his life in cold tundra, chained to his sister. The idea was not very appealing.

Alfred pursed his lips in thought, "Fine. I'll go. So when do we leave?"

"Friday." Ivan stated with a smirk that sent a shiver down the American's spine. Ivan was definitely up to something, something bad. Maybe he shouldn't of agreed to this... Shit, how did he always end up in these situations?

Ivan was grinning evilly, his plan was coming together. Now all he had to do was get Alfred plastered in Vegas, marry him and he would be able to reside in America for as long as he needed. The perfect plan.

He couldn't wait until Friday.

* * *

So a plot bunny has been bothering me for a while now, and this was created.  
Updates for this will be sporadic, based on if I have time and inspiration.  
I'm mostly focused on updating my on-going AmeRus fic 'Clinging'. If you haven't already, go check it out. 17 chapters are currently out.  
Don't worry, Chapter 18 will be up on schedule sunday... Hopefully... Blame APs...  
So yeah, thats all I got to say...  
Oh and the Title might changed, its just based off of some quote I read:  
Marriage isn't a word, it's a sentence.

So review, if this is any good... which I highly doubt...


	2. Chapter 2

Matthew chewed at his bottom lip, anxiety growing within him as the car moved steadily forward. He was sandwiched in the back, between Ludwig and Gilbert, practically on the latter's lap. Feliciano happily sat on his boyfriend's lap, smiling lazily. In front, Francis was driving with Arthur in charge of the map.

Which was probably the stupidest idea Matthew had ever heard of.

Note to self, never ever have those two try to navigate anywhere. He swore he was going to snap if the pair didn't stop yelling for more than three seconds. Couldn't they just stop fighting for just a little bit? It didn't help he had to keep swatting a certain albino's hand away from his crotch every five seconds. Why couldn't he have ridden with his brother?

Oh right, because Ivan was in the same car and that man terrified him. So, like the naive young fool he was, he had opted to go in Francis' car on this impromptu Vegas trip. Unfortunately, Gilbert had soon decided to come with him and forced the two other passengers into the car as well. Arthur had wanted to stay home but Francis had made it obviously clear that he had no choice. All in all, they were six people in a car meant for four. And Matthew, like usual, was stuck in the middle.

"Will you bloody shut up and listen? The turn was the one you just missed you damn frog!"

"Maybe, if my navigator actually gave me directions when they were needed and not ten minutes later I wouldn't miss things!" Francis retorted back, taking an illegal U-Turn in order to correct Arthur's mistake.

"Fucking wino, always trying to blame someone else." Arthur hissed out through clenched teeth.

"_I'm_ always blaming others? Do you hear yourself, Arthur?" Francis spat back, turning his head to send his boyfriend a glare.

"That was the fucking turn! Damn it! You missed it again!" Arthur yelled, pointing furiously and crumpling the map in his fist. Fucking hell, who told the french frog to drive?

"Ca suffit. Matthieu! Change avec Arthur, j'ai besoin de votre aide."_ (That's it. Matthew! Change with Arthur, I need your help.) _Francis called out in his native language, pulling over to the side of the road. Oh, Arthur was going to get it when they go to their hotel room. Hell, he might just do it in the lobby to embarrass him.

"What did you say? I hate it when you speak that filthy tongue!" Arthur seethed, confused as to why they had suddenly stopped. He was even more confused as he saw Matthew getting out of his seat (with much difficulty because Gilbert was none to happy about him leaving his current residency on his lap).

"Francis wants me to give directions." Matthew stated simply, opening the door and getting out of the car. Oh it was so nice to have room to stretch. He heard his joints crack and winced. Being crammed into that small space had to be some form of abuse. "So, we're switching seats."

"I am not getting on Gilbert's lap." Arthur stated firmly, remaining stubbornly in his passenger seat with his arms crossed. He was a great navigator, it was the frog who was a bad listener.

"I don't want your old ass on my lap anyway." Gilbert huffed, looking up at his boyfriend with big red eyes. Hopefully, it would work and Matt would succumb to his inner desires and get back in his lap. Sadly, Matthew just rolled his eyes at him. The nerve, for some reason Matt was immune to his awesomeness during times like these. It was really annoying.

Arthur swirled around to give the albino a deadly emerald glare. "You're older than me, git. Matthew! I refuse to have you date this asshole." He reiterated his disapproval for probably the hundredth time since the two started dating almost a year ago. How could Matthew even like someone so much older than himself! And an uncultured, vulgar prat too!

"Arthur, Gilbert is my boyfriend and you're going to have to accept that. Why doesn't he drive and I give him directions. Aren't you tired Francis?" Matthew switched the subject, turning his attention to his french friend. He didn't like the idea of Arthur sitting on Gilbert's lap either...

"Awesome idea Matt!" Gilbert quickly agreed, scampering out of his own seat to stand beside the blond. That way, he could still be next to him and, when the others weren't paying attention, could do some awesomely dirty things while driving. He grinned at the prospect.

"I do like the idea of Arthur sitting on my lap...D'accord." Francis mused, sending a pervertedly smug smirk toward the Englishman. Arthur bristled, he did NOT like this idea one bit. Unfortunately, he was outnumbered three to one and was forced onto the frogs lap. Bloody hell.

Gilbert was a good driver, though he did exceed the speed limit on numerous occasions. Still, he listened to his navigator who gave directions calmly, patiently and successfully. Arthur huffed at how well they worked together. Why couldn't his boyfriend be as cooperative? Why did he have to be bloody french? And why was he groping his arse!

"Francis! You get your hand off me or I'll cut it off!" He threatened angrily, squirming in his seat on the others thighs. What had he done to deserve such a fate?

Matthew sighed, he guessed it didn't matter what the two were doing, as long as they were together the air would be filled with yells and curses.

* * *

Ivan's violet eyes twitched, he had never realized how annoying Alfred could actually be. But, now that he had been forced to remain with him in an enclosed space for quite some time, he could safely say he wanted to cut off his own ears. Did the man ever shut up? Surely this couldn't be possible! He hadn't heard him pause even once for a breath.

Was he the only one alarmed by this? None of the other passengers seemed to be bothered by it, and sadly they did have passengers. The nuisances just had to come and make things more difficult. And, of course, Alfred had to flaunt his huge, wasteful SUV by offering everyone a ride there. At least, he had scared most with his intimidation. Only those to absorbed in their own little worlds had agreed to ride with them.

In the very back, Roderich was currently sleeping the trip away. Very smart tactic of his to take some pills as soon as they got in the car. Ivan assumed it was something you learned from being engaged to that crazy woman, Elizaveta. Speaking of her, she was practically drooling, watching the pair sitting just in front of her.

Romano and Antonio were bickering about something or another. When were they not? It was a marvel the Spaniard had even gotten into the car without a black eye. Ivan, though, could care less about their problems, or anyone elses. He needed to focus on the issue on hand, getting to Vegas. Most importantly, getting a ring on Alfred's finger.

He only hoped Alfred would be less talkative when they were married.

The man didn't even seem to notice that absolutely no one in the car was listening to him. He simply continued to chatter on about the new iron man movie or some new case at work and then he'd announce whenever there was a McDonald's sign.

Had Ivan mentioned that they had stopped a total of five times already? Only for Alfred to buy another refreshment or burger at one of those infernal fast food places. If Ivan's residency in the country wasn't in the hands of the American he would of bashed his head in with a metal pipe by now.

As it was, he entertained himself by blocking the driver's incessant rattle from his mind, along with that of the Spanish Italian duo. He wondered if Roderich had any more pills...

He sighed deeply, just remember that by this time tomorrow all will be worth it. The thought made him calmer, made him less likely to commit murder. When enacting on a plan it was best to keep the main component alive, yes?

"Right, Ivan?"

Violet eyes glanced over at the blue ones now flickering at him from their steady gaze on the road. "Have you honestly believed I've been following your train of thought all the way to this point?"

Alfred stuck his tongue out annoyed, frowning at the realization no one had been listening to the awesome things he had been saying. "I said, once we check in we can go straight to the slots and tables, right?" He reiterated.

"Da, and you may visit the bars as well." Ivan decided to add, the sooner he ingrained the idea of alcohol consumption the sooner he could reap the rewards.

"Pfft, who drinks at this time of day? Oh yeah, you. Seriously, having vodka with _every_ meal can't be healthy." The American mocked, happy to take his revenge for being ignored.

Ivan rolled his eyes, "At least I am able to hold down my liquor."

"Hey! I'm better than Artie!" Alfred defended quickly. His alcohol tolerance level was just fine!

"Everyone is better than your half-brother. He takes a sip of light beer and he's on the tables half naked singing something." Ivan sneered, recalling numerous times when the blond had done just that, if not more.

"He's not _that _bad." Alfred reasoned, feeling as though he should defend his half-brother. Even if they did fight a lot, they were still family. Plus, he was trying to get their rocky relationship to more familiar terms.

"Yes, he is. And if he's not singing, he's grinding the Frenchman." Ivan continued.

"Yeah, but that's usually Franny's fault." Alfred defended, he really did hate it when Arthur would just make out with Francis right in front of everyone. Of course, this only happened when intoxicated but it was still gross to see your brother sharing spit with a pervert. Especially when the blond had the nerve to deny the whole thing the next day.

Then again, Arthur was just generally annoying but Alfred still tried to get along with him, they were half brothers after all. He remembered the day they had that horrible nasty fight which lead him to shun the others existence for three whole years. Luckily, they had patched things up, mostly thanks to Matthew and his mediating skills.

The twins and Arthur shared a father but had different mothers. Arthur's had divorced his father when he was three and left, declaring she wanted nothing to do with either of them. A few years later, Arthur's father fell in love again and the woman bore him twins before dying from complications. His heart broken twice, their father was more loving toward his rum then toward his sons. Arthur, six years their elder, took it upon himself to raise the two boys and did the best he could with what he had. Of course, by the time the twins were in their late teens they wanted more freedom from Arthur's over protective rule. Alfred had been more extreme, estranging himself for years before Matthew soothed him back into the family.

Still, Arthur and Alfred remained on rocky ground for a while though they tried to ameliorate their relationship.

"Hardly or are you so dense that you can not see through your brother's obvious lies?" Ivan teased, giving the other his trademark smirk.

Alfred sent him a glare and turned his focus back on the road. Ivan was lucky he was paying for everything or he would of kicked him out of the car. He was so annoying sometimes. He still didn't understand why they were friends, if you could call them that.

Who could of thought that you'd be on friendly-ish terms with the guy who threw a chair at you when you first met? Granted, Alfred had told the Russian he would totally bang his sister after peeking at the picture in the man's wallet. But was the chair really necessary? Well, according to Ivan it was and before Alfred could he even realize what he had just said he was assaulted with the piece of furniture. Of course, he couldn't just lay there, even if he was in a state of shock. So he threw a punch along with a clever insult and before a mob could amass around them, they were fighting on the ground.

But, Alfred supposed, when you're forced to share a hospital room you get to know a person. It turned out that Ivan went to the same University as him. They hadn't met yet because the other was a shut in. He was a pretty creepy guy and Alfred never knew what he was thinking but something about him reminded him of Matthew. Mattie had decided to go to a different University and Alfred had not been happy. The pair were inseparable but now Mattie was leaving him! Still, the other had promised they would hang out on breaks and all that so he finally agreed. Alfred was a protective big brother (by three seconds), he blamed that trait on Arthur.

Matthew had been the baby of the odd family. With his soft fragile features and curly blond hair, the two others absolutely adored him. He had big violet blue eyes and was so quiet and shy. He went along with all of Alfred's schemes but obeyed Arthur's every word. Alfred missed that little brother, since when had he become so sarcastic? Probably Gilbert's damn influence. It was no secret the two elder brothers did not trust the albino since they stated their displeasure every time the two were together.

Anyway, university Alfred, feeling lonely without his twin found someone who seemed similar. Ivan was quite, like Matthew. Ivan was anti social, like Matthew. Ivan had violet eyes, was misunderstood and enjoyed hockey, like Matthew. Unfortunately, as Alfred continued to hang out with the Russian, Ivan was nothing like Matthew.

Ivan was cold and manipulative where Matthew was warm and trusting. Ivan kept his emotions hidden behind his cold violet shield and carefully crafted smirk. He scared the shit out of people and enjoyed the fear in others eyes. He was a sick fuck, Alfred had deduced after a few days of hanging out with him. But he didn't quit because now he had a new goal.

To make Ivan normal.

Which failed and landed him in the hospital once more. So, Alfred had said to hell with it, and decided to have nothing to do with the guy. Unfortunately, it wasn't that easy. It never was that easy when it came to the Russian.

He had caught Ivan's interest, something that happened rarely but when it did, it was a life long sentence. So, Alfred was trapped due to his own stupidity. At first he tried his best to get the creep to leave him alone before finally giving up. Now, he tried to make the best of it by making sure Ivan hung out with his other friends pr at least people in general in the hopes of making him a little normal. Then again, his friends weren't what most would constitute as normal...

"Turn to the right." Ivan's instruction brought him back from his thoughts as he obeyed the command with a slight nod. "You are quiet, is there something wrong? I don't recall ever a time where you weren't filling the air with your chatter." The Russian commented with a smirk.

Alfred gave him a cocky grin, "Oh, I was just thinking of something~" He waggled his eyebrows at him, in a similar fashion that Francis would. "Actually, of some_one. _Someone with huge tracts of land." He added, his voice earning a British accent near the end. He could feel the air drop a few degrees.

"You will refrain from thinking of my sister in such ways. I know for a fact that you are gay Alfred."

"I don't know... I mean, those jugs could turn anybody." He goaded, unable to hide his smile. Of course, that wasn't true but he did enjoy teasing the Russian.

"You are a dead man, American. If you do not stop this pointless garbage that spews from your hamburger infested mouth I will have to do certain horrible things to you." Ivan bit out his warning. Married or not, he could beat him with a pipe if he was forced to.

Alfred chuckled lightly, not scared in the least. He was never scared, one of the many things that intrigued Ivan and had drawn him toward the American.

"Fine, sorry. I was just kidding. Anyway, are we there yet?"

* * *

Look! An update! Cool, right?  
What a pointless chapter. Don't worry, Vegas adventures in the next and do I hear wedding bells?~  
XD  
So, I did not expect so much feedback! 18 reviews? Really? I feel so loved :3  
Anyway, I hope you find this chapter enjoyable... Even if nothing much happens...  
Next chapter will be posted when I have inspiration and time.  
Oh and don't forget to check out my other story Clinging, which updates every Sunday! Thats got 22 chapters up :)  
Anyway, reviews mean love my darlings~


	3. Chapter 3

"Well, there goes Artie." Alfred announced, sipping his beer nonchalantly as his half-brother attempted to climb on top of the table. The music of the bar pounded in his ears and he had to talk over the noise. How many drinks had he had? Probably only two.

He had been enjoying his time at the blackjack tables when he was kidnapped by a certain Russian. He had even been on a roll! Well, _technically_ he was down fifty bucks but he could feel the change in the air. He had been about to win and win big, but, of course, the damn Ruski had to ruin everything and take him away from his table.

So instead of becoming a millionaire, Ivan dragged him into this loud noisy bar and dumped him in a secluded corner. His alarm senses went off at that until he saw they weren't alone. Both his brothers were there drinking with their boyfriends and so he breathed a sigh of relief. For a minute he thought Ivan was going to kill him or something. He wouldn't put it past him.

Anyway, as soon as he sat down, Ivan ordered him a large drink and Alfred accepted because hell, Ivan was paying for it so why not? From what he could tell of the others, they had already been drinking for a while.

Arthur was wearing an alcoholic induced blush and his eyes were already half lidded, probably because of some impure thoughts he was having. Th fact that he couldn't see Francis (who was sitting beside his brother while wearing a pervy expression) hands might also be a factor. His half-brother had the tendency of getting very perverted when he was drunk. He remembered the one time where Arthur started complaining to him in explicit detail about his sex life with Francis. That had probably been one of the most awkwardest one sided conversations he had ever had.

Francis, at the moment, also seemed quite intoxicated and was whispering presumably naughty things into Arthur's ear. It was enough to make his breath hitch several times. The whole spectacle disgusted Alfred so he took a nice big gulp of his beer. Maybe he could get drunk and enjoy himself a little.

Matthew looked to be the most sober other than his boyfriend. Then again,Drunk Gilbert and Regular Gilbert acted basically the same and the Prussian did have a high tolerance to alcohol... Still, he did not like how he couldn't see the damn albino's hands and that his baby brother appeared to be saying 'stop'. If he was trying to take advantage of him he was going to kick his ass right here!

"Drink Alfred."

Alfred turned to Ivan confused before the man continued, "You seem stressed." It seemed like a valid reason so Alfred took another drink before his attention was drawn back towards his elder brother. Arthur was now attempting to get onto the table. And apparently, he (or maybe it had been Francis) had taken off his pants at some point earlier. Joy.

At least he chose to wear his union jack boxers instead of the pink unicorn ones.

Oh crap, Arthur was trying to sing to the song blasting around them. Keyword there was trying. Well Francis seemed to like it since he kept wolf whistling, then again the Frenchman was known to say just about anything to get into someones pants.

"Artie." Alfred tried to grab his brother's attention because he was fine with the man dancing, but not without pants on and especially not when he was trying to take off his shirt in what he assumed to be an attempt at a strip tease.

"Wha?"

"Get off the table."

"I 'm nah gettin' off. I'm a gonna bloody stay in the table fo'ever. An' me an' Frog are gonna make babies on it." He slurred before giving out a loud cackle. Alfred rolled his eyes and followed Ivan's suggestion of drinking. He sure as hell needed it. Especially when Arthur seemed to be serious as he started to tug Francis onto the table, pushing aside the glasses.

This only succeeded in making Arthur fall of the table with a fit of laughter. Alfred's beer glass was almost knocked down as well but thankfully Ivan had saved it. Arthur was now laughing obnoxiously as he lay on the ground and Francis quickly got out of his chair to help him up. Instead of bringing him back to the group, though, the Frenchman merely called a 'bonne nuit' and dragged the intoxicated Brit away. Alfred sighed in relief because at least his brother wasn't his problem for the night. Maybe he could actually have fun.

When he looked back at their group he found the table oddly bare. Someone had definitely been with them. Oh right his brother! And the asshole. Where the hell had they gone?

"Matvey and Gilbert left when Arthur climbed onto the table." Ivan explained easily. It freaked Alfred out how he could guess what he was thinking. One time he accused him of having mind reading powers but Ivan had just responded that he was easy to read. Something about how his face betrayed everything he was thinking... What a weird thing to say.

Ivan was glad that everyone had left but was disappointed at the slow rate Alfred was drinking. He needed him to be as intoxicated as possible, the sooner the better. Soon he'd have to take matters into his own hand.

"Why are you staring at me?" Alfred snapped, giving the Russian a skeptical side long glance. Seriously, he could be such a creep. Maybe he should be like his friends and leave. The night was still young and he could probably win a few hundred dollars at the crap tables...

"Oh, I was just imagining you singing to a song from that obnoxious drunk blond once you yourself are drunk, most likely after this drink." Ivan goaded with a smirk and Alfred gritted his teeth.

"Ke$ha isn't that bad! So you better 'zip your lip like a padlock' and let me enjoy my drink! I can hold my liquor just fine." Alfred hissed through his clenched teeth and took another gulp of his drink. Getting drunk and not caring sounded wonderful right about now.

"Can you? I don't believe you." Ivan continued.

"You know what? Lets go! Order the most alcoholic drink in the damn bar. We'll see who gets fucking sick first!" Alfred declared, slamming his fist on the table. Ivan tried to hide his triumphant smirk as he calmly asked one of waitresses for two of the specified drink.

"I'm am so going to kick your ass." The two drinks were set in front of them and the pair took hold of their glasses. "On three we down them as fast as we can, first one done wins." Ivan raised his brow at the rules but nodded anyhow. Alfred, thinking he was tricky, did not count but merely shouted out 'three' before downing his drink in three successive gulps. Ivan took a calm sip as he watched the other with amusement.

Alfred slammed his glass to the ground and swiveled toward the Russian sitting beside him, he blinked a few times as the world continued spinning and grinned cockily. The drink burned his throat and made his eyes water slightly but he still felt triumphant. "Ha! You, you said I couldn't hold my liquor. But I so hold my liquor. Your just jealous, is what you are." He slurred cleverly while Ivan controlled himself before he let out a giggle. The American could be so amusing.

"I guess you are right. It seems only fitting the victor receives the loser's drink." Ivan acquiesced, passing his almost full drink toward the blond. Alfred didn't remember that rule but he took the drink anyway taking a sip because he was feeling a little dizzy.

"Ah ah! You must drink it like before." Ivan scolded, holding the glass to the others open lips and securing his head with his other hand. Alfred's blue eyes widened as the burning liquid was forced down his throat. He chocked as he was forced to swallow because the Russian's current position kept him from thrashing. Finally he was released when the glass was empty. He coughed and sputtered, taking in a heavy breath and glaring at the Russian. He didn't know there were two of them.

"Fuck! What is wrong in you? You are so going to pay for-for that!" He yelled, his arms lunged out to punch the other but Ivan easily caught his fist with a smirk.

"Stop! Let go!" Alfred snarled, before suddenly he was in the other man's lap, his back against the others chest. "What?"

"You are thirsty, yes?" Ivan asked innocently and Alfred thought a moment, which proved to be more difficult then he remembered. Was he thirsty?

"No! I wanna go. I wanna go and—" What did he want to do? What song was playing? It sounded almost. "Dance! I want to dance!"

"We are not dancing."

"Why? I got moves, moves that are killer!" But instead of being able to get up, Ivan held him down and brought another glass to his lips. When had he gotten another drink? Alfred couldn't be bothered by it as more liquid was forced down his throat. This time he obliged the Russian, happily swallowing the liquid because it left him warm and giggly. When the glass finally emptied Alfred found himself snorting with laughter.

"Alfred?"

"You're so funny Ivan. Hehe, you're name is fun to say. Iiivaan! 'Member when I said Eyevan instead of Ivan? That was funny, like your name Ivaaaan."

Ivan decided that Alfred was drunk enough for his purposes because he now believed that the time he mispronounced his name and they both ended up in the hospital after a fight involving a few lawn chairs and an innocent yet tacky garden gnome was funny.

Alfred, still a giggling mess, squealed in surprise as he was lifted from his seat on the others lap. "Where are you going me?"

"We are going to get married." Ivan stated matter-of-factly.

"Oh." Alfred blinked a few minutes and frowned in confusion. Especially how the world was all colorfully bright and blurry as he was dragged away. "We're gettin' married? Why are we gettin' married. I don wanna get married. Why are we getting' married?"

"Because I want to stay in the country."

"Oh." Alfred went quiet as he tried to process this. "Wha?" He finally asked before he was unceremoniously pushed into a changing room.

"Enough questions. Put this on." Alfred fell back as whiteness attacked him. He flailed his arms uselessly before managing to get the fabric off. It was a dress. Why did he have to wear this? He didn't dwell on it too much since Ivan seemed pretty angry or whatever. Hehe, Ivan.

"How the fuck does it work!" He cried out in frustration as he fell on his ass trying to put on the dress. Over his clothing. Right, he was suppose to take that off first...

Ivan peeked in and raised an eyebrow at the mess Alfred was. He sighed, "Let me help you."

"I don nee' help. I'm a hero and heroes don need no help." Alfred huffed but remained pliant in the taller mans arms as he stripped him. He started giggling half way through as Ivan started taking his pants off. "Oh I get it! I get wha' you're doin'. You know," He leaned in close in an attempt at being seductive but only proceeded in almost tripping himself, "You don' have t'marry me to get in ma bed." He winked sloppily and let out a cackle that reminded Ivan too much of Gilbert. It was not appealing in the least.

The Russian ignored the offer, stuffing the American into the white dress because he wanted to get as much fun out of this scenario as possible. Once Alfred was dressed he sat him down and told him to stay. Alfred gave him a thumbs up before playing with his dress, something he seemed to derive a lot of amusement from.

He stepped out and grabbed his tie and suit jacket, dressing himself up to match his charming bride. Now, where did Arthur run off to... He checked on Alfred quickly, finding him giggling at his reflection and... hitting on himself? He turned away and looked around for his future brother in law.

He finally found him, his hair messed and his shirt missing so that he was now _only _in his boxers, hanging off of a Frenchman. Francis seemed to be much drunker than before and was trying to coax his boyfriend back into the bathroom for round two, or maybe it was five by now, Ivan couldn't tell.

"Arthur." The green eyed male looked up at him and tilted his head. "I need you for a moment."

"Non." Francis denied him, holding onto the Englishman tightly. "'E iz mine!" His accent thick from the alcohol.

"I'll return him in a moment." Ivan assured, picking up the struggling blond and going back to the 'chapel'. He needed a witness to sign the paperwork. He ignored Francis whines which quickly stopped once one of the skimpily dressed waitresses passed by.

He returned to Alfred who, thankfully, had not run off but instead had started taking off the dress. Ivan sighed, putting a disoriented Arthur down in order to stop Alfred from tearing his dress off.

"But I don' like it!"

"You will wear it!" Ivan snapped, losing his patience. Alfred quieted with a frown, sitting down and crossing his arms. He was such a child when drunk... Then again, he was a child most of the time. He turned away and placed a shirt on the other drunk blond and wrestled him into some pants so he looked somewhat respectable. Then he proceeded to drag both of them toward the alter where the man ready to wed them stood.

The process went smoothly enough, Alfred very easily agreeing to be wed though signing his name proved to be much more difficulty. Arthur also needed aid in writing his own name on the document. Ivan obliged them anyhow because finally the whole ordeal was complete.

Finally, the matter was over and done with and Ivan exhaled a sigh of relief.

* * *

Alfred tore the dress off the minute Ivan said he could. He didn't even care he was only in his boxers, he felt so free. How he loved freedom! "Now wha?"

"Now you sleep off the hangover." Ivan replied simply. After dumping Arthur back on Francis as promised, Ivan had taken Alfred back to his room.

"I don' wanna sleep! I'm nah tired." He complained as Ivan forced him onto the bed. He pulled back the covers before tucking the struggling blond in. His bride was seriously getting on his nerves. He could always use his pipe to get him too sleep...

"You will sleep Alfred."

"But we're married now, righ'?"

"Yes. We are." Ivan answered easily, his eyes widening fractionally as he was flipped onto his back and the other climbed onto him drunkenly. He hadn't expected the other to be coherent enough to do that.

"Then we shoul' fuck. 'Cause wedding night is super romantic so we're suppose to fuck." Alfred smirked, gazing down at the surprised Russian. He leaned down and bumped his nose with the others, eliciting a giggle from him that ruined the whole mood.

"No Alfred." Ivan said sternly. Alfred pouted.

"Why nah?"

"Because you are drunk." Ivan had morals...somewhat.

"Awww but Artie does it all the time." He whined, running his hands along the others chest. It failed at being arousing in anyway. Still, Alfred persisted because that was one of his annoying qualities, even when drunk.

"Well, your brother isn't the best of role models." Ivan argued, flipping them so he was back on top. He hesitated a moment, seeing the American sprawled beneath him, mostly naked and with a heavy alcohol induced blush painted on his face. The mere sight was more arousing then anything Alfred could have done in his drunken state. No, he mustn't. Ivan left the blond in bed and turned off the light.

Now all he had to do was explain everything to sober Alfred in the morning.

* * *

A new chapter? Le Gasp!

Short chapter is short orz I'm such a fail.

Yeah, sorry about the super duper long wait! I'll try to be better... But this story isn't a priority.  
I apologize for this chapter. I have never written drunk people. Never been around drunk people. Never have been drunk myself. So, it probably sucks.  
Oh well, next chapter will be fun because Alfred gets to wake up with a ring on his finger! Yay!

See you soon! Oh and go read Clinging because I'm shamelessly advertising myself! It has 29 chapters. :D


	4. Chapter 3 and a Half

"Arthur! Why did you leave moi? Tu es trop cruel!" (_You are too cruel!_) Francis whined, clinging to his Englishman tightly after Ivan had returned him. He had been so lonely without him and he had to resist going after a cute little waiter that had walked by. Arthur didn't seem to realize all the sacrifices he made for him.

"Stop! Get off-Ge' off!" The Brit slurred, pushing at the others restrictive arms. He was much too hot and the bloody Frenchman was making it worse. There was a reason most of his clothes had been off before!

"Arthur, est ce que on peut aller a notre lit? S'il te plait?" (_Can we go to our bed? Please?_) Francis purred into his ear hotly. Arthur shivered, squirming in the other mans grip as his face lit up. God he loved it when he spoke French, how the words rolled of his tongue and straight to his groin. Not that he'd ever admit it.

"Fuck, Frog you know—y'know I have no idea what you're saying! Stop whispering in my ear!" He ordered, the others warm breath was turning him on. For all he knew they were still in the middle of the casino, though the world had blurred away for quite some time.

Francis did stop whispering, preferring to nibble at the others earlobe instead. Arthur bit his lip, jerking slightly from the feeling and the fact that he wanted the other to stop and yet to keep going.

"Arthur, there isn't much time left. We'll have to do it in the elevator." Francis moaned, rutting the Englishman's leg slightly to alert him to his certain growing problem.

Arthur's eyes widened, realizing he was being pressed against a wall. An elevator wall. "When the bloody 'ell did we ge' 'ere?" He snapped, trying to contain a moan as the others clothed erection brushed against his ass.

His question remained unanswered as he was forcefully turned around and a tongue invaded his mouth in a thoroughly French kiss. Arthur immediately kissed back, his hands fisting blond hair to pull him closer. Francis moaned at the feeling, battling violently with the others tongue in a sinful dance.

The Englishman gulped at the air when he was finally released and only then realized he had been disrobed of his shirt. He could feel the others hands gliding along his chest, sending shivers throughout his body. French lips were sucking at his neck, nibbling on the sensitive skin.

"Ngh-" Arthur groaned, twisting his head back to give his boyfriend more room as he pulled with frustration at the others shirt.

"Holy Fuck!"

Francis detached himself and turned his head, seeing that the elevator doors were open and a group of people were staring at them, most in shock, some in disgust. He gave them a wink before pressing the close door button skillfully with his foot. The doors had not even fully closed when he continued his attack, biting harshly at his Brits neck and suckling the growing red mark.

When Arthur finally pulled away from the blissful touches he realized he could no longer feel the floor beneath his feet. He looked down, moaning when Francis took the opportunity to resume an assault on his ear and found his feet were now wrapped around the others waist.

In response, he wrapped them even tighter, grinding down on the obvious bulge poking out from the others clothing. Francis groaned, pressing the Englishman harder against the wall for support.

"F-Francis, bed. Now." Arthur ordered, his face red and blond hair disheveled. He needed to fuck and he needed to now. But he wasn't bloody going to do in an elevator!

"I don't remember what floor our room is." Francis snapped, bucking onto the other in order to remind him to keep grinding. Arthur gasped, his hands tightening around the others neck.

"Ch-Check your card."

"I want you now!" Francis growled, sealing the others complaints with a harsh kiss that left them both breathless.

Arthur still would have none of that and thrashed in the Frog's grip until he was finally dropped. Francis glared at him and Arthur paid him no mind. Heavily supporting himself with the wall, he fished through his pocket for their key card holder. He lifted it up but the words kept moving about and dizzying his vision.

"Fin' our room." He snapped, flicking the card toward him and missing. Francis sighed impatiently, bending down and reading the number.

Floor 7. He quickly hit the button before tackling the blond again. Arthur responded just as harshly, biting and lapping, licking and sucking before they stumbled out the elevator and down the hall in a mess of limbs.

* * *

Matthew whined as Gilbert continued assaulting his neck. They weren't even inside their room yet! Couldn't the albino wait just another second? He knew he was drunk but still!

Finally he pushed him away, turning around to try and slide their key card into the door. It didn't help that Gilbert was still nibbling at his neck making all his movements shaky.

It also didn't help when a couple knocked them over as if they hadn't even noticed them standing there. He groaned on the floor, feeling Gilbert continue his incessant suckling at his sensitive neck even when they were on the ground.

Wait a minute, was that stubble grating against his skin?

"Gross! Gross! Get off Francis! Get off! I'm not Arthur!" He all but screamed, pushing at the other desperately. Francis looked up through dark hazy lust filled eyes in confusion.

"Oh, Arthur you are so amusing." He chuckled lowly, leaning down to kiss him and Matthew panicked. Luckily, Gilbert kicked him in the side, knocking him over. The albino then helped his cute little boyfriend up.

Francis staggered up as well, slightly confused and looked around for Arthur.

"He's in your room already, Franny. Better get to it before he passes out." Gilbert said helpfully before pushing him into his room and slamming the door shut. He had found the key card for it on the floor and quickly opened the door to push the Brit in.

"That was really really gross." Matthew whined, wiping at his neck in disgust. Who knew where those lips had been! Francis wasn't exactly know for his monogamy.

"Yeah, well your old ass brother was fuckin' humping my leg before I could get him into his damn room." Gilbert defended, looking at his pant leg with a sneer of disgust. He'd have to burn them.

"Please don't tell me things like that." Matthew sighed, rubbing his temple.

"Don't worry, Matt. I'll make you forget all about whatever the hell just happened." The elder promised, sealing those cute little lips with his own as he led them into their room.

* * *

Arthur wasn't entirely sure how they had ended up in here, but the important part was that Francis was on top of him and his pants were finally coming off. He just couldn't take the tightness any longer! He gasped when his boxers slipped from his legs as well, his erection finally released from its confines.

He shivered at the hungry look in his lover's blue eyes and the way he licked his lips before bending his head down. Arthur couldn't help but cry out, his hands gripping those long silky blond locks for support as that sinful mouth descended upon him. It licked and kissed him slowly, teasing him before finally swallowing him whole.

Arthur groaned, hands digging into his lover's scalp, urging him to take in more, to suck hard, to bob faster. Curse Francis and his skill. It was as if he was born without a gag reflex all together. Arthur blushed, compared to the Frenchman his blow jobs sucked, though Francis never made fun of him for his lack of skills.

"F-Francis, I'm gonna cum if you don-ahh, g-get on with it!" He snapped, arching his back as he realized the damn Frenchman already had two fingers up his ass. When had they gotten in there? His mind was so delirious at the moment he could barely feel the invasion of fingers in comparison to the wonderful mouth around his cock.

"Fuck! There!"

That is, until Francis found that special spot within him.

Francis grinned, pulling away from the others member and retracting his fingers. Arthur squirmed, his skin shivering at the lack of attention as the touches stopped entirely. He glared at the frog, his green eyes telling him he better hurry the fuck up or he would have to take matters into his own hands.

* * *

Alfred tossed in his bed slightly, feeling cold. He rolled to his side, pressing himself against a nice warm object. He mumbled in his sleep, nuzzling at it to press closer.

Ivan looked down from the book he had been reading, smiling at how affectionate his wife was being. He put an arm around the other, aiding him in his quest to come closer. Alfred sighed happily, his head on the Russian's chest as he continued to dream of a pleasant world filled with hamburgers and soda.

* * *

"Harder!" Arthur growled, rocking his hips back against each of the Frenchman's thrust. He needed more. Francis stopped his complaints with a kiss, thrusting harder and making sure to aim for the others prostate.

Arthur moaned into the kiss, arching his back in a beautiful curve. He broke away from the kiss to let out a loud shout as Francis continued his barrage on his sensitive spot. Francis groaned, feeling the other tighten around him. It was almost too much but he controlled himself. He had that kind of skill.

"Keep screaming, Arthur." He moaned into his ear, panting harshly with each thrust.

* * *

"Gil, oh God, Gil!"

"You gotta scream harder than that Matt. We gotta beat them." Gilbert encouraged thrusting into that tight sinful heat and pumping the others member at the same time. Matthew moaned, rocking his hips back before letting out another scream.

* * *

Arthur collapsed, his chest sticky with his own essence and his hair plastered to his face. Francis followed suit, slipping his softening member out and lying next to his lover.

"Mmm, Arthur you always look so sexy after I've fucked you up."

Arthur sent him a glare, his chest heaving as he still couldn't control his breathing. "Fuck you Francis." He snapped tiredly, not having the energy to turn over and punch him in his smug little face.

Francis chuckled, his hand sliding over to dance over the others chest. "Does that mean you are ready for more?"

Arthur could already tell it was going to be a long night.

* * *

So... I felt bad for not updating this in years and decided to write this. I'm so sorry you had to read that. It was awful wasn't it? My first attempt at full on smut. I'm so embarrassed.

Anyway, next chapter there will be plot! Alfred will wake up and be all like 'da fuck is this ring doin' on me?' Or something like that.

So stay tuned I suppose!

In other news, Clinging (for those reading that) has just been updated. So you should go check that out...


	5. Chapter 4

Blue eyes fluttered open before squeezing shut at the bright light that stung his corneas. He whimpered, rolling over only to feel his head pounding. The fuck! He curled up on himself, head throbbing painfully and his whole body feeling sick. He had never felt so shitty in his life.

He felt fingers brush through his hair comfortingly and his eyes blinked open to stare into violet ones. He wasn't thinking straight and merely stared at the glass of water offered to him along with pills.

"Take the aspirin. It is good for hangovers." A familiar voice ordered and Alfred weakly obeyed, sitting up painfully and grasping the glass. He place the two pills in his mouth before gulping down the water. He coughed slightly, pressing his hands to his forehead. What did he drink last night? Better question, _how much_ did he drink last night?

"Thanks" He murmured weakly, returning the glass into what he identified to be Ivan's hands. Why was he here anyway? Oh who the fuck cares. His head was fucking killing him and why couldn't the sun just fucking turn off for a just a few fucking moments?

"It is the least I could do for my new wife." Ivan answered easily, taking the glass and putting it down on the table. Alfred nodded absentmindedly before his whole body stiffened. Wait...what? The world came crashing down on him and he whirled around to face Ivan who was smiling that damn fucking creepy smile. Brief flashes of a wedding dress and a couple 'I dos' flashed in his mind. His heartbeat quickened and he started hyperventilating when he glanced at Ivan's hand, a golden band wrapped around his ring finger. He looked down at his own to find its twin.

Then, Alfred started to scream.

And scream, and scream and scream.

This couldn't be happening. This could NOT be happening. He could not be married. Especially not to IVAN of all people. This was all a joke. An evil, stupid joke.

"Alfred, calm down. You will wake everyone in the building." Ivan hushed, calmly from his side.

Alfred whipped around to him, ignoring how his head protested as it continued to pulse. "This is a joke. This is a fucking joke."

"Joke? Of course not, hunny. We were married yesterday! You do not remember?" Ivan answered sweetly with that teasing creepy smile.

Alfred's eye twitched. "You're lying. You're lying."

"Why would I ever lie to my wife? Sometimes you are so very cruel..." Ivan pouted, trying to hold in a giggle. Bothering Alfred was just so much fun! "But if you really don't remember I have wonderful photos of our wedding." He said, pulling out a few pictures he had paid a photographer there to take.

Alfred quickly snatched them out of his hand, looking at them in a panic. "Oh my God. This is actually happening. Why am I in a fucking dress!" He cried out.

"Because you looked so cute, my little housewife." Ivan cooed, hugging him close and nuzzling into his cheek. Alfred stiffened, heartbeat erratic as he tried to process all of this. Still holding him to his chest, Ivan took Alfred's hand in his own, rubbing the golden band. "And now we are one! Forever mine, my little American wife."

And Alfred started screaming all over again.

And, because of this, someone started pounding at their door.

"Shut the bloody fuck up in there, Alfred! Some people have bloody fucking hangovers they're trying to deal with it!" Arthur shouted through the door, his British accent thicker from drowsiness.

Alfred quieted, thrashing in the Russian's grip until he was freed. He ran for the door, almost tearing it open.

Arthur looked horrible. His eyes were red with bags underneath, his hair was messy and sticking up all over the place, his clothes were mussed and he had a plethora of hickeys extremely apparent on his neck. Still, Alfred grabbed him.

"Shit! The fuck are you doing!" Arthur snapped, holding his pounding head as Alfred lurched him forward into the room.

"Artie! You gotta help me! I'm married!" Alfred begged, eyes wide and teary. His brother had to fix it! He always fixed his problems.

"What?"

"Ivan and I are married through some horrible mistake and you gotta fix it!" Alfred pleaded, shaking the other for good measure. That didn't help the extremely hung over man.

"I'm gonna be sick." Arthur murmured, covering his mouth and pulling away. He quickly ran out of the room.

"No! Don't leave me!" Alfred shouted back desperately as arms encircled him to pull him back in another suffocating hug.

"He knows we are married, he signed the document." Ivan reminded nonchalantly, nuzzling into those golden locks.

"What!"

* * *

Arthur sat at the table in his room, sipping at his tea while rubbing his temples. God, his head hurt like hell. He was never drinking again. If it were up to him he'd still be in bed, hiding under the covers.

But it wasn't up to him.

Alfred sat before him, looking angry and scared all at the same time as he ranted about this marriage license. Frankly, Arthur could not recall anything from the previous evening.

"Alfred." He cut the younger short from his rant and blue eyes settled on him. "We were drunk. These things happen. Just go get a divorce." Arthur shrugged. He needed some aspirin. His lower back was killing him, no thanks to the frog. Who was _still_ sleeping soundly in their bed.

"But I can't!" Alfred moaned, burying his face in his hands.

Arthur blinked, green eyes narrowing in confusion, "And why not?"

"Because the fuckin' creep who is now my fucking _husband_ refuses to get divorced!" Alfred snapped, voice raising from hysteria. This just couldn't be happening. It just couldn't. Why couldn't Arthur fix it already? He was suppose to make the bad things go away like when he was little! And this was a very _very_ bad thing.

"What? Why?" Arthur asked starting to get angry. He had never liked the Russian fellow who followed Alfred about. He was very odd, very creepy and gave off a threatening aura. He certainly didn't want the two wed, especially if it was against his little brother's will.

"I don't know! He wants to see me suffer! Please Artie, I need your help!" Alfred lamented.

"Alright. Lets remain calm and talk to him. I'm sure this all just a strange misunderstanding." Arthur responded calmly.

* * *

"Nyet, it is not a misunderstanding. Alfred and I are happily married." Ivan smiled creepily, wrapping an arm around the American who thrashed in the possessive grip. Arthur narrowed his eyes.

"Ivan. We were all drunk last night. This wasn't suppose to happen." Arthur reasoned, glaring at how the Russian was manhandling his brother. Oh he did not like this at all.

"Nyet, I was not drunk." Ivan shrugged. If only he could have come to Vegas with only Alfred and none of the annoyances. Things would have been so much easier.

Green eyes widened, "You got married on purpose?"

"Da." Ivan grinned, nuzzling into blond, struggling hair.

"Let me go! I don't want to marry you! Get away from me!" Alfred screamed, struggling, squirming and thrashing in a desperate attempt to free himself.

"I won't stand for this Ivan! You can't force people to marry you!" Arthur growled, his protective nature appearing in his harsh tone. No way in hell would he allow his little brother to be forced into a marriage.

"Well, I do not believe the government should force people to leave their home either." Ivan snapped bitterly, tightening his grip on the American.

"..What are you talking about? And let him go!" Alfred relaxed slightly as he heard the statement, confused.

Ivan sighed, releasing the blond and watched him scurry away. He comically stood behind Arthur for protection, even though he was a good head taller than his elder brother.

"My visa expired without my knowledge because it was held up in the mail. They are sending me back to Russia. Unless, that is, I find a reason to stay in the country. Such as, marrying an all American boy."

Alfred's blue eyes widened in understanding, suddenly feeling sorry for the big lug. Ivan didn't have many friends, and he was horrible at social interactions... This was probably a desperate attempt Then he realized the implications. "This is illegal! I could go to jail! I could lose my job! No, find someone else for your creepy plot!"

Ivan gave his best pout, "That isn't very heroic of you Alfred, to allow a friend to be forced back into a, how you say it, 'god forsaken hell hole of a country'.

Alfred bit his lip. He was right. How could he boast about being a hero and turn down a friend-frenemy-? He obviously needed help if he had succumb to such desperate efforts as marrying him. And it wasn't fair to deport him all the way to that ice cube of a country... Maybe he should hel-

"No. Alfred you were right before. This is wrong and illegal. You can't do this." Arhtur snapped, reading his brother like an open book. Alfred could not be this stupid. He couldn't go along with this.

"This doesn't concern you Arthur." Ivan snapped, looking into the blue eyes, making his wife squirm uncomfortably.

"I.." Alfred hesitated, looking between the two.

"A hero would help."

"Alfred, don't listen to him!"

Alfred let out a long sigh, his heroic side winning. He couldn't help it. He couldn't just let them take away a friend of his and not help. "Ok fine. We're married. But after you get to stay in the country we're getting divorced, do you hear me?"

Ivan clapped his hands joyfully, giving him a grin. He hugged his bride tightly as the other pushed at him to get off. less angrily though.

"Alfred! I can't let you do this! You'll get arrested!" Arthur snapped sternly, worry showing in his emerald eyes. "This will _ruin_ your life."

"But Artie, I can't do nothing! You know I can be an awesome actor! It'll work out and then we'll get divorced easy peasy." Alfred dismissed, his plan already formulated in his mind. Stay married, act lovey dovey, get the green card then get divorce. Simple.

"Alfred, it's not that simple." Arthur read his mind yet again. Was he really that open with his thoughts and moods? He should probably work on that if this was suppose to work. "Do you have any idea how complicated this entire process will be?"

"Nope. But you can totally be our lawyer! Won't you Artie?" Alfred said, eyes bright and grin growing. "Unless you want us to get caught and thrown into jail." He murmured, his tone suddenly sadder.

"I-" Arthur faltered.

Alfred gave him his infamous puppy dog eyes.

"Fuck." Arthur sighed, rubbing his temples as he himself was wrapped in a tight hug. "You're lucky we're related." He snapped.

"Aww, I love you to Artie!"

Arthur rolled his eyes.

* * *

Francis stretched, letting out a tired yawn and rolled over. He let out a quiet whine at the absence of warmth that _should_ have been there. He blinked his blue eyes open to stare at the empty space beside him. He pouted, even though there was no one there to pity him. He sat up with a sigh and looked about the room.

He couldn't help the satisfied grin that appeared on his face as he saw the state of his room. Clothes strewn everywhere, a chair knocked over and questionable stains all over the bed. Oh, he had ravaged his little blond many many times the previous night.

And he had been hoping for a few more rounds in the morning. But apparently he wasn't in luck since his cute little Brit had decided to run off. Most likely to scavenge for some tea. How annoying.

Or had he? Because not a moment later did the door slam open to reveal his missing Englishman.

"Arthur! Come back to bed."

"Sod off, Frog! Get dressed. Alfred got married to the fucking creep and instead of divorcing him like a sane man would, he's playing hero. So now _we_ need to do some research to defend their case or else my bumbling brother's off to jail."

"Wait...What?" The Frenchman asked, tilting his head sightly as he sat up. He hadn't understood a word his lover had said.

"Damn it, Francis. Don't you ever listen? Just hurry up and get dressed!" Arthur snapped, throwing clothes at him as he started going through his suitcase for his laptop.

"What a perfectly good morning, wasted once more." Francis mumbled melodramatically.

* * *

"What did I just agree to?" Alfred sighed, running his fingers through his hair.

"Oh, do not be so sad, Alfred. It will be fun to be my wife, yes?" Ivan teased lightly.

"Oh cut the crap." Alfred snapped, "You can be lovey dovey when they interrogate us."

"But should we not practice?" Ivan egged on, wrapping an arm around the other.

"No." He pushed the other away, trying to think. "Shit, this means we need to live together..."

"Da, I will move in."

"And I'm gonna have to support both of us. Shit, what if I can't make enough?" Alfred worried at his lip, "And you say I'm the fucking wife! I'm the one whose gonna have to bring home the bacon and all that shit. Damn it!"

Ivan only giggled happily. "Until death do us part, my little sunflower of light." Holding him close once more.

"Don't say that!" Alfred groaned, pushing away at him again.

"Get off him this instant." Arthur snapped, barging into the room and dragging his fellow lawyer behind him. Alfred breathed a sigh of relief, escaping from the others suffocating grasp. Ivan pouted but refrained from attaching himself to the other once more.

"I still do not understand what is going on." Francis whined, tilting his head at the pair's once affectionate behavior.

"Meet the new happy couple." Arthur growled sarcastically, succeeding in making Alfred flush a brilliant red.

"What? You two got married!" Francis' eyes widened as he spotted the rings the younger two were wearing, "And I wasn't invited!"

"Shut up! Its not what you think!" Alfred quickly defended,

"No it isn't." Arthur agreed grimly, putting on his lawyer face. "This Vegas trip is over. We're leaving in a few hours. Or at least us four, if the rest want to stay who cares."

"But-" Alfred began to protest. He'd barely gambled!

"Shut up, Alfred. Also, as far as everyone else, this relationship of yours is real. Well, perhaps Matthew can know the truth but that is all. The less people know of this the easier."

"Why must he know." Ivan asked, looking at the Frenchman with distrust.

"I'm a lawyer too! What is the problem here again?" He asked, glancing at his lover for some sort of clarification.

"This is a green card marriage, Francis. Now we have to keep my idiot of a brother out of jail." He explained easily, watching the dark blues eyes widen at the knowledge.

Alfred puffed out his cheeks indignantly, crossing his arms. Ivan thought it was cute.

"Now then, the minute we get home I need you two to fill in a questionnaire. But first, Ivan you need to move all your stuff into Alfred's apartment." Arthur continued briskly in a matter of fact tone.

"Fine." The newly weds answered.

"And, why, again, is he needed?" Ivan asked once more, sending Francis a look.

"All you two do is fight. Hardly convincing. As much as I hate to admit it, Francis is an expert at romance." The Brit sighed, making it seem like the confession was physically painful.

"Oh you flatter me, cher." Francis teased, attempting to thread his fingers in the others hand. Arthur smacked it away.

"You two need to act like a real couple or we're all fucking screwed. That means no more public fighting. Do you hear me?" He continued, leveling the pair a stern glare.

"Yeah, yeah." Alfred muttered, keeping his arms crossed.

"Don't 'yeah yeah' me Alfred. This isn't a game. Francis and I could lose our licenses to practice the law, you could go to jail." Arthur reminded grimly, sternly.

Alfred swallowed. What _had_ he gotten himself into?

* * *

And the plot finally moves along. So, Alfred and Ivan Braginsky are married! But difficulties lie ahead.  
This is such a cracky fic... lol, its so much fun to right.

Btw, I got a tumblr (don't ask) and I'm gonna try and post previews and updates for this story and Clinging. If you're interested, go check it out.  
http:/ xxfuyukainabakaxx . tumblr . com /  
(without the spaces of course)

Until next time my sweets, and remember, Review!


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